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Unperceived DepthsThere is a bright and shining hope. The water shimmers and engulfs the view as glossy red metal subs plunge into the green depths. The mossy things under the waves, shrieking horrors despite the silence of the crushing darkness. Insanity lays siege to the lights. Duty calls every man to sit as the world slips away.
The surface will not miss them but they will long for the time they can leave the pressurized chambers. They feel it behind the walls. The crew know it is there even if they don’t look. If they study their screens hard enough, read every syllable of their books, dot every “i” on their formal paperwork; They still know the insanity that lurks just outside. They see it through their closed eyes. The insanity waits outside peering through the hull with their gouged sockets. The feel the men. They taste their fear and bite away at their control.
The things outside are little more than ghosts and much more. Few have hands left. What fingers were left were sacrif
The day, the nightThe day, the night, the standing light in the standing time between the day and the rhyme. No one suspects the ever living, ticking betraying stance of themselves. No one counters their own rebellions as the wage on in the soul and the sound of the hallowed ground. there aren't as many police as they think. the safety they imagine is just that because no one can save us from ourselves. Where the cattle and goats feed of the land, we consume our souls. We forsake what we hold dear because nothing else quite feels like it is worth the time to defile. there is an epidemic in my mind that reeks the whole mind and seeks to destroy the images of a boy and taint the stance of a man.
The girls with their pearls all rolling in the light shimmer in the glimmer of destruction’s light. Those that detect and collect respect that there are no boundaries for where the dollar has power.
Lies stack up and we experience truth through fictions. The only truth is true with the imagination. Relevant
Over IndulgentThere was a time for us. I haven't written about you in a while. There was a time when I wrote about you every day. I missed you. Now, I just want someone to hug. You don't hug me. You haven't hugged me in a long time.
There was a time when you hated people. You hated them for me and for my honor. You said that they disrespected me and you didn't like them for it. I was proud and happy and content with you and you alone. I was happy to have someone so devoted to me. Someone to ring my cause before I knew I had one.
I still have people that ring my cause. People that stand up for me and hate on my behalf. It is different now because they hate you. They hate you for what you did to me. For what you said. For the year of grieving that you did not deserve. They hate you and you will never be welcomed back to my cause. I vetoed your exile. I tried to leave the door open for your return. They came back with a super majority. The override came swiftly. You don't want back and they don't want
Just because it is a cycle, doesn't mean it is allThe idea of quitting is nothing new. You let the words bounce around your head and then you let them spew. In private, alone. In the alley behind your home. you drain your throat of everything in your head and hope it leave you alone. but it breaks down into the soil and gets swept back up into the drains. and washing out into the oceans where liquid has few names. Until it is hoisted up into the sky and fluffs out into clouds that methodically pass you by. The ideas went back inside you and come down as rain but you stay indoors dry and insane.
The HikerThe snow fell in sweet silence on the serien meadow. The thin trees stood inches apart from each other filling the expanse. There is blood pooling in my sock. I don't know what to do with it. The others knew first aid. They were headed nowhere, though. This is the right direction. I know it. These surroundings are completely new. I am bound to hit land soon. I can take care of my foot then.
Oh. Apparently my shoe has soaked through. There are red footprints leading up to me. Life is funny sometimes. It is kind of hard to breath. I think I will sit down, take some nice deep breaths.
that is funny. My tan seems to be gone. I guess this will just let me get tanner. The guys at the office will be impressed. The office seems like a completely different reality from this place. Everything is calm. Nothing cares for what time it is. Things happen and succeed without demanding everyone's attention. Why do I feel like everything is looking at me?
I kind of get the appeal of nature, t
Our Dead SelvesTo all of our dead selves. they lie there. damaged, dismembered, dead. Every lifeless husk in various stages of rot and or preservation. The glassed over charred one, still hanging off the chimney. I don't even remember which of the husks was me. They don't stab. It is oddly suspicious but I stopped asking questions long ago. We ran out of bullets after a few months. The early corpses are further away. Back then we were disturbed by the contradiction of our dead selves being burried by our living bodies. We use to go so far out that we lost a few bodies. Hell, we lost a lot of bodies.
We use to bury ourselves, too. Use to call ourselves "them" and "it." We use to fight about what exactly the corpses should be called. We agreed to disagree a few times but that didn't last. We would try to trek out to our graveyard in silence but we would get to talking and directing and then the shovels would be dropped as we both pulled swords. The swords lasted longer than the ammunition but those sho
Sitting Quietly in Pale WhiteSitting quietly in a pale white breakroom. You can tell a break room because it looks desperately and thoroughly used for fifteen minute increments several times a day and lacks any real distinction of style outside of borrowed furniture, lockers of questionable safety, and vending machines. It makes an obscene amount of sense that one soda company would be contracted to sell in the store but another would own the machine in the breakroom. The steadiest most desperate patrons would be employees. The illusion of choice in lieu of laziness. It is always easier and cheaper to bring refreshments but that is if planning was easy.
He sits there in the breakroom holding a red leather journal. Fountain pen floating centimeters over the page with the constant threat of leaving ink in strategic places that convey meaning to discerning onlookers. He stares at the pop machine and thinks about the illusion of choice and the its threat to free will. The clock is broken and the second hand twitches u
Heart Pounding my Brain
Today is the day. I cannot think about it, too long. Otherwise, I get sick to my stomach. I am going to ask out the obscenely cute girl, from work. Ambiguously single with at several male friends but she is proprietary single, none the less. I'm still unsure, though.
I have come up with a plan. I will get her attention.I won't bring up any other bullshit to talk about, straight to the point. I will ask if she is seeing anyone and I will request that we go out sometime. When do I take her out?
She has told me she is busy. Quite the busy girl, all the time. I am available late or early, whenever. I don't know when we both will be available. I could take her out at work. No, that would be unpleasant, embarrassing, and not at all romantic. Should I really be planing dates right now? That would look weird, right? If I go from being unaware of her relationship status to throwing times and places at her. I can only see that ending in dodge ball, I want to avoid that metaphor.
So, setting up a
The Beautiful ClownsThere is another one. Tall blond, shutter-shade sunglasses, pink novelty tee, and jeans that show me too much ass. We are trying to march down this boulevard to make a scene. Me and my gang, we aren't funny and are not here to chase tail, even if we did find it mildly attractive. Pocka-dots and an ironic sense of humor. When the clowns roll walk into where you live, you will find that you were on our turf all along.
This was a long time coming. We should have just taken what was ours. We had a girl selling on a street corner. Snow, not ass, we don't sell ass. We give stupid people stuff that keeps them stupid and there is no woman who deserves to be some banker's sweet escape. I find that women fight just as well as men, if they are treated like they can. Mother's fight better, pain tolerance and a constant angry stare.
Take Bridge, she was fourteen when we found her. Skinny as wire on a fence and high on crack. I don't give wasts of girls like that a second look but not Bridge. Even o
Nature's TranquilityYou hear the shore
As waves crash onto the sand
Imagining being immersed in the blue world
Free from restraints of daily life
Gentle winds carry salt air to your nose
As you breathe in you take the essence of the ocean
The maiden is calling for you to join
Silence is the virtue here
Letting the mind wander with no ridicule
Its almost as if you don't exist
On this beach you are just one of the grains of gold
Running your hands through the sand
Rubbing them between your fingers
Letting it all fall back down to be collected once again
Peace and serenity
Nothing in between
Light cradles you in its arms
Bathes you in heat
As the love is felt between you and the illuminated one
The perfect reality, the perfect escape.
Drops of WaterThousands fall upon a field
Saturating the surface it's on
It's as unpredictable as it is mysterious
Raging one second and dying the next
It has friends join in it's company
A loud mouth
And a bright star
Each adding it's own flair to the concoction
As time goes on the size changes from small to large
Pounding into any surface even it's very own
Birthed from the sun and raised by the mist above
It returns to it's embryonic form only to be reborn again
Like a phoenix from the ashes
Delicate and powerful it does a beautiful job of combining both
While still being the beauty it is
Conforming to anything and everything it goes through
Letting nothing stand in it's path
Obstacles will dissolve into the one thing it's trying to hold back
Truly something to cherish and respect
It is so vital to us we don't even give it a second thought
The almighty power circulates around us everyday
Waiting to be birthed into the world again
All it needs is a little push from the radiating light above
a mother's love is boundlessi sat outside and i heard the crickets chirp
i sat outside and smoked a cigarette and listened to the sounds of space, the whir of neptune's rings in my ears
i sat outside and thought that if i died nothing would matter and that the world is pseudoscience and the stars are dying just as we are, every time someone dies a star does too and when they are forgotten the stars light stops reaching us
what if the trees know who we are and they are afraid of us
what if they hate us, senseless killers and energy consumers
what if the earth is living and we are the maggots gnawing away at her skin and her insides and sometimes she tries to stop us with hurricanes and tidal waves and sometimes she just lets us be because she's come to love us. like stockholm syndrome
what if that's what karma is
she sees us hurt each other and disciplines us like the mother she is
she wants us to love but we do not love
father space cradles her in his arms because she cries, she paved the way for us to live when
Once before...Once before
This planet was blue and green
But now I only see
Remains and memories-
Of a long forgotten evergreen.
Disappointed I walk between
No one in sight
But only greed
Where did the old Love
And smile go?
This planet was blue and green
Now even the skies ceased to shade-
Now even the Sun turned its back-
Yet we ask
Why should we care
If others feel this way
But we are not others
We are us
But we like it when others-
Are in control
But we like it when others-
Are the puppeteers
And we like it when others-
Tell us what to do
We like to be controlled
Yes, we like nature
Without trees, leaves
Die Weidehelle Seufzer steigen bar
wo Sehnsucht haust in Zweigen
stets ermutigende Winde
das lange Haar reicht tief hinab
wo Sternenlichter zeigen
nur Nachts den Grund
im Auge reifer Seen
von Angesicht zu Angesicht
sich Häupter traurig neigen
und Tränen schmieden Wellen
die immerfort vergehen
an Ufern blühen Weiden
sie träumen tief im Stehen
Colorful CoinsColorful Coins
by Tricia Pattinson
From Spring to Summer
Light enters life
Seen at bounty time
Every which way
Troves of treasures
My name isHello, my name is regret.
I'm the one thing that no
one lives without. Hello
my name is defeat. You look
into my eyes everyday. Hello
my name is oblivion everything,
down to your your fears up to
the one thing that keeps you alive.
cat eyes on me
as i sought a peace for myself
at three before witching hour;
smoke rings flirt with a burning mouth
then dance towards an altitude
which i do not care for
Snow FallThe perfect snow drifts perilously to the earth. It twirls in the wind. Twisting in the air as the heat pushes past. the wind is always pouring from among high in an effort to find balance. The only result is turbulence. Breath of desperate pleas beat flakes and trees alike as the fall continues. Landing is most dreadful. There is no control for the frozen patterns. No means of reason to attempt to succeed. Cars blaring horns blaze on the ground. It gets close and the wind meets it and bends to the curvature of the hood. Flakes are tossed on a wave of movement. Unseeing and caring. Some lose their majestic form as they lie in puddles. They land softly, always softly. A perk of design and kindness. It hovers for a moment. The tension passes as the blanket of comfort fades away. Laying in water, dirt is pulled up over the crystals. It is warm now. Strange. It dissipates as a teardrop and mixes with that which fell before. Next time, a field perhaps.
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